


To See in All Directions at the Same Time

by swords (zombiejosette)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-16
Updated: 2013-05-16
Packaged: 2017-12-12 02:05:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/805874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombiejosette/pseuds/swords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a price for Phillip's return, but there always is.  Aurora worries that Cora lied. Mulan does not let herself hope that she did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To See in All Directions at the Same Time

Aurora does not master the sword instantly. Her wrists struggle under its weight and the shining silver of the blade becomes a little more scratched, a little more worn, every time it hits the earth with a thud. Mulan is hesitant to let her use it, winces every time it drops, every time the point swings too near throats and vital organs.

She keeps it sheathed, finally, at rest, next to her own sleeping form at night ("you'll cause more harm than good," Mulan says, "you'll train when we aren't traveling. Phillip will help."). 

Aurora stares, watches, night after night, sees her distorted form in the dirty blade, scratched and weathered and lit up like the dawn itself in the firelight.

When Mulan finds her sword missing, it's in Aurora's hands, held sure and strong in a clearing as the princess gasps for breath. Her arms strain not under the heaviness but under the bruises, self-inflicted accidents, scrapes on her calves visible through the tatters that once served as a skirt.

Mulan, a woman of few words, rarely considers herself speechless. But her voice catches in her throat at the sight and dare she think the glory; all she manages is a breathless, "Well done, Aurora."

The next battle is the armor itself, and Aurora does not protest at the layers, though Mulan recalls the dull ache of her own bones beneath them in her early days. Aurora keeps her cloak, a plain thing of more sentiment than anything - a uniform losing its regality with every dirt stain to grace its hem, wraps it around her shoulders and finds the fabric taught over the metal.

It's sliced from her form during their third battle, an old witch, more frightened than anything, powers dwindling but without empty threats. When Aurora retrieves it, it's to wrap the woman in it, place her near wildflowers and watch as the blood spreads across the pale cloth.

And she isn't (wasn't) an ogre, a rogue leering from the shadows; her powers die with her and she's only human, and Mulan sees as Aurora does.

"Phillip did the same," Mulan admits, finally, when the silence grows too heavy. "He'll be proud."

Aurora inhales; Mulan can hear the sharp intake of her breath, but nothing, no response, follows. 

They do not slay their way to glory, to the wraith, to a prince in distress. They move in stealth, they hear as the rumors grow - a girl encased in the thorns of armor, running from something (not to; never to), from someone. A rose within the briars of metal. A knight for a companion to slay the threats, gouge the eyes of anyone who may see her, catch a glimpse of rosy skin beneath her mask. The stories are the same in every town. They follow them, words winding their way after the rose and her knight, twist around them as they look to one another and grin, hair down and masks off and eyes glowing.

Aurora wonders what will happen if they don't find Phillip. Her fingers trace the stitching of her glove and she does not look at Mulan, thankful for the orange fire between them, a barrier of unpredictable heat.

"You've learned much, regardless of what happens," Mulan tells her, gently as possible. It's only half of the truth, she realizes, and she struggles to recall Phillip's face, reminded only of the way Aurora speaks, the blue eyes of the woman who sits before her, across a blinding wall.

Aurora worries that Cora lied. 

Mulan does not let herself hope that she did.

There is a price for Phillip's return, but there always is. A life for a life; it's equal in this case, an exchange that leaves Aurora stammering and Mulan straight-backed and determined.

She breaks.

Aurora shakes beneath the armor; Mulan hears the clatter and can only think that it's delayed, that the protests and the shouts have always been there, buried under a facade of strength and honor and determination. The Aurora they searched for, that they - that Phillip, she recalls; she had no part in it - awoke has never been far behind. But Aurora clings to Mulan's arm and makes her swear that she will not be the price (for even if love is sacrifice, Phillip didn't want this, she insists, she persuades).

"Regardless of what happens, I've learned," Aurora insists, eyes wide and earnest and pure (Mulan has to swallow hard to push the knots in her stomach away). "We've learned."

Mulan promises.

But Mulan breaks. And in the morning Phillip sits near the ashes of their fire, disheveled, disoriented, and he sees Aurora come back to life and sees her freeze, sees the sobs take her, sees her turn, Mulan's name on her lips.

He follows her gaze, sees Mulan standing. Aurora exhales, between relief and a laugh and, "Mulan -"

"You saved him, Princess," she says, and her smile does not meet her eyes.

They do not speak of it, the way Mulan follows them, the way she's tangible and real and there, the way she helps save the castaway, the way she defends them, the way she's able to do any of it at all.

Aurora knows that true love overcomes any obstacle, any curse. But Phillip is here and his embrace is warm; he kissed her awake. 

Perhaps Mulan did the same for him. 

(It was never her at all.)

Aurora turns cold, turns angry, turns quiet, for Phillip's embrace is no longer a guard, no longer a lifeline. She does not let herself think that it never has been, she has never needed him - only that he has never needed her, and this is what she's feared: that there is no place for her with Phillip.

When she draws into herself, Mulan and Phillip do not turn to one another. She watches as it does not unfold, as her hostility continues without motive. She lays Phillip before Mulan and she does not accept him, and Aurora ignores Mulan's gaze, dark and worried.

True love overcomes any obstacle, and Mulan is not dead. She is not soulless. She swore to Aurora, she promised.

When Aurora sees clearly, one day when the sun is blotted out by clouds, Mulan is gone. _Love is sacrifice,_ she remembers, an echo in her head, delayed until circumstance permitted it.

Phillip and Neal sleep. 

Aurora saddles her horse.


End file.
